Requiem
by Azaria Stromsis
Summary: You know nothing of the Black Rose Witch. Pre-Series.


_Summary: _You know nothing of the Black Rose Witch.

_Author's Note: _Something I thought up after I got home from watching Angels & Demons, while listening to the amazing soundtrack. I would recommend the movie, even though it is vastly different from the book.

_Disclaimer: _I don't own 5D's, though I do own the unnamed orphan girl.

* * *

Requiem

You think you know her.

You think you _know _her. You know nothing. You know nothing of the Black Rose Witch.

She saved me once. Me, a little dirtied girl that was too small too thin. Me, a street wrench. Me, homeless. Me, barely surviving in the city. I had since moved onto Satellite, to learn to my surprise that I fit right in and that I didn't care about what the city folk thought of _us_, but I would always remember. Always. The only city person I could really trust.

The Black Rose Witch.

-

It had started out with the running. Always with the running. Usually from Security, or a housewife scaring me off from her kitchen after I had failed to steal the one loaf of bread that would keep me alive for another two days. But this time, it was from a man.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit." I muttered quickly, as I rounded a corner quickly, ducking under people and whipping around smaller children. "Not good, gotta hide. Gotta hide." I threw myself into a dark ally. Now normally, when being chased, I would lose them in the alleys. This was my home. Ok, not really, more like the place that sometimes provides room and food for me. It was the place I grew up in, and I knew those alleys like the back of my hand. I smelt the salt of the air, and I could hear the blowing of the boats horns. I felt the last of the sun's rays caress my cheeks as it dipped beneath the horizon and I disappeared into the shadow of the tall buildings. Yeah, I knew those alleys. So did the man.

And he wasn't alone.

"Fuck." I whispered, not caring that what I was saying would give most parents a heart attack. I was backed up against a wall, both sides of the alley covered by two men and the leader, the one who had originally spotted me ragged and begging, stealing bread from an old woman, advancing quickly and quietly. He padded up to me and raised a hand up to my hair.

"Well… we'll have to wash it. But," he grinned evilly, and I felt bile rise up in my stomach. "You'll do. You'll do just fine. In fact, I already have three clients who would _love _to have you…" Gods above, kill me now. I prayed silently, biting down on my tounge so hard I actually drew some blood. He advanced slowly, his unwanted heat overwhelming my small frame. Kill me now. Don't let him rape me, I just want to die. Kill me, kill me, kill-

_Whoosh! _

A card flew down from the building above us, and nearly cut the man's finger off. He howled in pain as a figure leaped down and landed quietly in front of me. The figure, I saw she was a woman, stood up slowly and confidently. She knew that no one could hurt her. I felt jealous, and I wanted that so much in that instant. "Again?" she said. "I thought I told you," she stepped forward and he flew back against the wall, his other men having run away leaving us alone. "To run. Foolish man…"

She chuckled and I was pretty damn sure that my neck hairs weren't the only ones standing up. "Now I will have to hurt you." A Security bike passed the mouth of the ally, and with the brief flash of light I finally saw who my savior was.

Blood red hair, black cloak, and a white porcelain mask. I gasped, and she turned towards me fully.

The Black Rose Witch.

I had heard the stories and I knew what she was capable of. I was scared and yet, I was also confused. She had saved me. She eyed me for a second, and only when the man whimpered did she turn back to him. Walking over, still keeping him pinned to the opposite wall while I cowered, she ripped him down and threw him to the ground. She hissed at him as he made a move towards me, making me cower in fear again. "Go!" She shouted, pushing him with her powers towards the mouth. He stumbled out, leaving me with my newfound hero.

She cupped my face, her gloves cool against my flushed cheek. "Come now, child," she spoke softly and caringly. "Come, sweetling. This is not a night for little girls to be running around in the dark." Her solemn, powerful, knowing words almost broke the awe that had encompassed me.

'Then why are you out?' I wanted to scream. 'You're a little girl, looking lost and alone, why are you out here?' I almost wanted to open my mouth and speak, the words were branded into my mind and my tongue itched to roll the words, but something stopped me. A little child of seven, one who couldn't normally think beyond the words that she wanted to say and what impact they may have, stopped and thought for once.

I honestly doubted whether or not she had ever been a little girl.

She stood before me a tall woman, a proud woman, a woman who had seen the worst of the world. And even when the world fought against her, beat her down and told her she was a _monster_ she still did good. Saving orphaned girls off the streets, saving them from a life filled with drugs and rape and violence. Trying to tape together that last innocence of a child. It was more than those who called her a monster ever did for society.

She gathered me in to her arms and lifted me off the ground and on to her back. I feel asleep somewhere along the way, and someone we had crossed over to Satellite. I was gently dropped into a chair and a bowl of soup and a hard piece of bread was shoved into my face. I looked up and saw the Black Rose Witch conversing with an old woman with leathered skin and a kind face. The smell overwhelmed me and I dug in quickly, rejoicing in the feel of the warm broth trickling down my throat and the sweetness of the honeyed bread. I munched down on a carrot as I finally paid attention to what the two older women were saying.

"Another?"

"The same man. I shall have to kill him I think." The Witch spoke blandly. The older woman wearied. The Witch hesitated. "Take of this one, Martha. Please?"

Martha sighed quietly, defeated. "Always. When am I ever going to see your face, child? Learn your name?"

The Witch chuckled grimly. "I don't think that's a good idea." She walked out then. She walked out of the house that would soon become my first and only home. She walked out of my life then.

I grew up happier than I ever thought I would, with food a bed and friends. I even had a mother. But, whenever I had Martha's vegetable stew and her homemade honey bread, I thought of her. The Black Rose Witch. And at night, I swear I hear the screams of her victims. But I don't care. Because many of them probably deserved it.

Did that make evil? Wishing pain upon other people? I honestly didn't care. My view of the world shattered that day. It was already beaten down, cracked and almost broken, but it shattered on that day. I lost my innocence and gained a childhood.

I've grown up a lot since then. It's amazing what two years will do for you. But I still remember. She saved me from becoming one of those victims, and for that I am eternally grateful. As are the others. We know the _real _Black Rose Witch. Not you. No, never you.

**stereotype**

_a standardized mental picture that is held in common by members of a group and that represents an oversimplified opinion, prejudiced attitude, or uncritical judgment_


End file.
